


Winter Sister: A Promise, Forgotten

by MabFaerie



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Best Friends, Brother-Sister Relationships, Domestic Violence, F/M, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, New York City, Promises, Romance, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 20:20:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3424268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MabFaerie/pseuds/MabFaerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Growing up in a rough and tumble environment, best friends Amy and Alex had always promised to someday get out of the old town they were stuck in. One of them finally managed it, Amy, losing track of her friend along the way.<br/>Years later, Amelia Owens has set out to find the friend she lost, discovering that Alexandra Chase's life had taken a turn that neither one of them could have foreseen.<br/>Would there be room in Alex's new life for her old friend? Or would their promise be forgotten forever?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [persephone325](https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephone325/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Winter Savior](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3292232) by [persephone325](https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephone325/pseuds/persephone325). 



* * *

“One day, we’ll get out of this town and things will be different. You’ll see.”  
Two young girls huddled side by side on the steps of an old farm-house, holding hands and whispering to each other. A mess of red hair very-nearly entangled itself into the long dark locks of the brunette sitting close beside her. With the way the two girls clung to each other, one might think they were practically interweaving themselves as one.  
  
“I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. _Again…_ I wish I was stronger." The long-haired girl whispered, a familiar pain and disappointment flooding her tone, it seems they’d had this conversation before.  
“It’s okay, it doesn’t even hurt that much anymore. I’m used to it.” The shorter girl with choppy red layers peered at her friend with a smile that made them both wince. A colorful array of bruises dotted the shorter girls skin in varying shades; black, red, violet, blue. Her skin was like a rainbow, if rainbows were made of abuse and indifference.  
  
“You shouldn’t _have_ to be used to it, Amy! I saw what your dad did! He made you cry!”  
“But he loves me, Alex! He always says he’s sorry later, y’know? He says he just lost his temper. It was my fault. He cries too sometimes! My dad said--“  
“Your dad hurt you! I saw it! How is it _your_ fault? How can you just let it happen like tha--”  
“But he loves me! It _has_ to be my fault. If someone you love hurts you… it’s ‘cause you did something wrong! I mean … _isn’t it_?” A look of alarm and confusion passed between the two girls, a struggle to make sense of their surroundings, of an inescapable fate.  
  
“I don’t know.” The brunette breathed, the idea forming, shaping itself in her mind. Was her friend right? Were they both wrong? For a flicker of a moment, Alex wondered if perhaps Amy was just making up feelings to justify what her father put her through, to try and cast him in a more favourable light.  
How many times had they gone through this argument? It seemed like they were always going back and forth about it. But… what if she was right?  
  
After a moment, the red-haired girl spoke again, nudging her friend in the ribs, gently.  
“Hey, do you want to go hide in Adam’s tree-fort? My dad’s probably gonna come home drunk again tonight and I don’t wanna see him right now. The weatherman said it’s not gonna rain. We could sleep there and talk to the stars again--Oh, yeah, I keep asking Adam to make Dad stop. I guess he must be pretty busy up there, since he hasn’t gotten to me yet.”  
  
“Well, you’re his little sister. He probably put you last on the list.” Alex teased, a smile spreading across her lips as the two girls stood and wandered off into Amy’s backyard.  
“Yeah, that seems like a dumb thing he’d do, huh?” Amy smirked, remembering the way her brother used to playfully pick on her, hiding her sneakers before school or stealing the last slice of pizza when she wasn’t looking. It felt so long ago now, those days that existed long before Dad started drinking and before Mom walked out. Just thinking about it made Amy feel strange. It was so different then, almost like looking into someone else's life.

Stopping short, Amy took in the sight of the tall, sturdy looking tree-house that sat mid-way up a massive-looking Willow tree. The bowing leaves of the tree helped to obscure the structure from view, giving its occupants an additional level of privacy. The tree had been built years ago, before Amy was born, by her father as a birthday gift to Adam. Adam would only let her play in it when he wasn’t home or when his friends weren’t around, always worried about seeming like he was sympathizing with the enemy.  
  
Now, though, her father would throw a fit if he caught her anywhere near it. He told her _to ‘have some respect for the dead!’_ whatever that meant. She was sure that Adam would have wanted her to use it, since he wasn’t home anymore. She tried to be careful not to mess up his stuff though; he always used to complain if she moved too many things around.  
Maybe that’s what her dad meant; To respect Adam by remembering not to move his stuff around, now that he couldn’t tell her himself? Amy really wasn’t sure; nothing seemed to make sense anymore.

The ladder up the tree was a bit old, but had begun to warp itself inwards against the tree, offering additional stability where the steps would have otherwise corroded. The inside of the tree-house was decorated to suit Adam’s taste and had been left intact for the most part, with the exception of the purple and blue sleeping bags rolled up into a corner, attempting to hide from view and take up as little space as possible, much like the girls who used them.  
  
Super-hero and video game posters lined the walls, held on by thick, uneven patches of duct tape and thumb-tacks. A small table with two chairs set against the round window pane, overlooking the forest. A bookcase sat unnoticed against a far wall, mystery novels and choose-your-own-adventure books lined the shelves, interjected by the occasional old journal or sketchpad, all belonging to Adam, tucked away just where he left them.

The center of the tree-house held a slim, spiral staircase that led up to a crow’s nest outlook. A plush toy parrot sat glued to a perch at the very top, a symbol of the pirate games that Adam used to play. Now, it was just used for Amy to keep an eye out for her Father and know when she needed to sneak out of the tree-house unseen.  
Sometimes Amy would leaf through the pages of a book or admire a drawing, but she was always very careful to put them right back where they belonged, hoping that if Adam came back, he’d be happy to see everything just as he’d left it.

“Do you want to play Go Fish?” Alex asked, kneeling down to tug open a small floorboard where Adam had hid his cards and trinkets.  
“Yeah, okay.” Amy nodded, settling into a spot on the floor opposite her friend.

They passed the night away like that, until Amy’s father started shouting from the house, screaming into the night, sobbing and furious. He’d been that way since Adam died. Perpetually angry and sad; he was always violent yet remorseful. It was like he’d become a whole different person overnight.

“Do you think your mom met him at the bar again?” Amy asked while Alex tidied the deck of cards away.  
“Probably. She says she goes there to try and talk some sense into him. I think she goes there because women drink for free on Wednesday nights.” Alex retorted bitterly, a peculiar stiffness to her frame that Amy always recognized when she spoke of her mother.  
“Will you be okay tonight?” Amy asked, worry flashing across her gaze. Alex cast a glance towards the swelling bruises lining Amy’s jaw and tensed further, “Will _you_?”  
“I wish I was brave like you, Alex.” Amy didn’t answer Alex’s query and instead moved towards the window, half-listening as her father shouted at the world like a man possessed.  
“I’m only brave because you’re with me.” Alex replied, a scoff in her tone. She moved to stand beside Amy, taking her friends hand in her own and squeezing it reassuringly.  
“Then I guess I’ll always have to be with you.” Amy smiled, squeezing her friends hand in turn.  
  
Moving their gaze to the night sky, a painting of stars lit the heavens, bright and seemingly unending.  
Every time she saw a star, Amy would wish for Adam back. She’d wish for her Mother to come home. She’d wish for her Father to stop drinking.  
She wished for Alex’s mom to stop shouting and cursing all the time. She wished for Alex to stop feeling so responsible every time one of them got hurt.  
Star after star, Amy kept wishing. Night after night, Amy continued on; a thousand wishes, maybe a million. Until she was certain she must have wished on every single star in the sky.

Peering out into the darkness, a flicker of dust trailed down into view. Amy narrowed her gaze, was she seeing things? Was it just a stray cobweb?  
Only when the dust continued to fall in an even, continuous pattern did Amy realize it wasn’t dust at all.

“Huh. I thought the weatherman said it wasn’t gonna rain.” Alex chirped, reaching a hand out the window to feel the chill in the air.  
“I don’t think it’s rain… I think it’s _snow_.” Amy was surprised. Snow in September? It felt a little soon. Fall was hardly upon them, the leaves hadn’t even begun to change yet. The ground was still green and healthy and the plant-life was thriving in the last waning days of Summer.  
“It’s a sign! Adam must be listening!” Alex whispered excitedly.  
“You think he heard us? You think it’s my turn now?” Amy asked with widened eyes, convinced that her brother was looking out for her from a place she couldn’t reach.  
“What else could it be, Amy?! Adam is listening! We have to make another promise! Right now! Now, while he can hear us!” Alex was adamant, both hands having moved to grip Amy’s upper arms tightly, a mixture of hope and shock obvious in her expression.  
  
“I--I don’t know! It’s all so sudden! What do we wish for?”  
“W-we wish that someday things will be different!" Alex exclaimed before hastily tacking on,  
"They’ve got to be! Promise me, Amy! Promise me while Adam is listening! Promise that we won’t always have to live like this! That someday everything will be different!”  
“O-of course.” Amy stammered, taken aback by her friend’s sudden aggression. It made sense though, this promise. If anyone could save them, it was Adam.  
Amy blinked twice, pushing her confusion away, Alex’s wide-eyed gaze locking with her own,  
“I promise, Alex. I promise.”

 

* * *

 

**SIX YEARS LATER**

 

The streets of New York were harder to navigate than Amy remembered them being. She’d only been to the city a handful of times in her youth. Twice on class field trips and once when she’d begun hitchhiking cross-country with one of many foster brothers, only to be dragged back ‘home’ in under a month.

Finding Alex after so many years was proving to be a hell of a task in a city this size. Public records listed her as ‘missing’ for the past month. Amy cursed her luck. If only she’d made her way to New York sooner!

As she stapled yet another Missing Person’s poster to a community board, she felt a hand lower on her shoulder. Out of instinct, Amy spun, her hand catching the wrist of the figure behind her and thrusting it away. The figure, a female, seemed unfazed by the abrupt action and simply took a half-step back.

To her dismay, this wasn’t Alex. She was taller than Amy with red hair that took on a darker, more auburn shade than Amy’s orange-copper tone. Like Amy, she had fair skin but her eyes were an intense green while Amy possessed a softer teal shade. They could have been relatives if Amy didn’t know better, for all their peculiar similarities, distinctive as they were.

“I heard you’ve been asking around for a friend of mine. Is there something I can help you with?” The taller woman glanced at the missing person posters, her lips hardened into a tight line, it was clear she wasn’t too happy seeing them plastered about.  
“You know Alex?” Amy raised an eyebrow, staring this peculiar woman down with a fiery intensity.  
“Let’s just put it this way: Alexandra Chase isn’t missing and we don’t need you drawing attention to her.”  
“Who’s _we_?” Amy inquired, getting a weird vibe from the odd redhead that she couldn’t seem to trace.  
“That’s none of your concern.” She replied, her words took on a menacing, threatening tone.  
“ _It is_ my concern. Alex is my best friend and I’m not going to stop until I find her!” Amy took a half-step forward, closing the distance between her and the odd woman at an alarming rate.  
  
“Funny you should say that. She’s my friend too and I’ve never heard her mention any best friends. Not even once.”  
“Then you don’t know Alex very well. Ask her about Amelia Owens. She’ll tell you.”  
“I’ve heard enough. Stop looking for Alexandra Chase. You don’t want me to tell you that again, for your sake.” The figure turned and began to walk away, content with having said her peace. Furious, Amy called out after her,  
“That’s not gonna happen-- Not ever!” Amy shouted back, nearly shaking with how absolutely fuming she felt. If the auburn-haired woman had anything else to say, Amy didn’t hear it, she was already headed down another street, papers in hand, ready to plaster every corner with Alex’s face.  
She’d scour the city top to bottom until she found her friend, even more determined now that she knew Alex was alive somewhere.

She needed to find Alex. She needed to keep her promise!  
  
It wasn’t until sunrise that Amy headed home to her dingy apartment complex. It had a shit reputation for security and there were break-in's and assaults nearly every other week. The plumbing sucked and the showers were usually cold, but it was cheap and it was in the heart of the city. It was exactly where Amy needed to be if she wanted to continue her search for Alex at any great length. All things considered, she'd certainly lived through worse.

After spending all night asking about Alexandra Chase, taping and stapling posters to every corner in the hopes that someone might tell her where the young girl went, Amy was hungry and spent.  
Exhausted, she dropped her bag by the front door of her apartment and stepped into her living room, content to sit on her couch and sulk a while before scrounging up some food, wondering if she wasn't too lazy to cook after all.  
  
Instead, she found an unexpected visitor, clad in black from head to toe, with a gun poised right at her chest.  
“What do you want with Alexandra Chase?” A steady voice asked, dark eyes centered on her and the grip on the gun never once faltering.  
"I've seriously got to find a better apartment." She groaned, raising her hands in surrender and hoping the person before her wouldn't shoot on sight. 


	2. Chapter 2

“It’s kind of a long story.” Amy exhaled, hoping that her shaking wasn’t as visibly noticeable as it felt.  
“Then I suggest you start talking. Quickly.”  
“Alex and I grew up together. We were best friends. We fell out of contact and I’ve been looking for her ever since. If you just _ask her_ , she’ll tell you, I swear.” What was the deal with this guy?! Why was Alex hanging around someone like him? Was she in some kind of trouble?  
“Explain.” He motioned to the seat across from him at the table and watched her with a careful gaze as she pulled the chair out and sat down. She rested her hands on the table, her shaking all too obvious now as it vibrated through the thin wood.

“Alex… She meant everything to me. When I was thirteen, my Dad died. I proceeded to get tossed around the system from foster home to foster home, state to state, until I turned eighteen and was finally free to make my own decisions.” Amy shifted, moving her hands to her lap but the figure in black barked a sharp ‘Hey!’ at her, causing her to place them back on the table where he could see them.

“I’m not going to try anything!” She protested but he didn’t believe her.  
“Continue your story.” He spoke calmly, the gun lowering slightly, but still aimed directly at her heart.

“I’ve spent the last six years trying to get back to Alex. From the moment my dad died ‘til now, I’ve done nothing but run after her shadow. I lost track of her three years ago when she started seeing some asshole. He was really controlling, didn’t like her talking to me, didn’t like her talking to anybody honestly. He warned me off a few times.” She winced in the memory of that. His idea of a warning was the same as her father, a fist in the face, a kick to the ribs, a tug of the hair for good measure. Why Alex would ever want to be with someone like him was beyond her understanding.

“I tried to see her anyway, despite his… _warnings_ , but they moved and he changed their number. Public records recently listed her as Missing, presumed dead. I feared for the worst but I knew there had to be more to the story so… I came to New York to find out the truth. And… here we are.” She gestured to their surroundings, hoping that he understood and didn’t decide to shoot her in the chest regardless.    

“Did you get in a fight?” He asked and Amy blinked, realization dawning upon her. She probably looked a mess. She’d gotten into an altercation the previous day with her most recent foster-father, Lucas, after he showed up on her doorstep demanding she come back home. Like a few teens before her, he’d wanted Amy to apply for SSI, so he could leech off the funds and continue to avoid actual work. When she refused, they fought. She kicked him out, threatening to call the police if he didn’t leave, but not before suffering quite the beating beforehand.  
“That’s not important. It doesn’t have anything to do with Alex.”

“Did you hear all that?” Amy blinked in confusion as the man in black spoke, his gaze never once leaving her face as he seemed to speak with someone else. A split-second of static noise sounded from a small radio attached to his vest, a voice, the woman from earlier, spoke up.  
“Copy that. Her story checks out. Alexandra says she knows her. Amelia Owens is telling the truth. Bring her in.”  
“Come on.” The figure stood, gripping her by the elbow and leading her along, back out into the early morning once more.

* * *

They drove in silence for the most part, with the dark haired man at the wheel and Amy dozing off in the passenger’s seat now and then. She knew she should be afraid, but she was too damn exhausted to care anymore. Searching for Alex had never once been easy and this was no exception. Whatever she’d gotten involved in Amy could only hope Alex knew what she was doing.  
  
Occasionally, a dark thought crossed her mind. At least if this was a trap and she ended up dead, she could finally stop chasing her best friends shadow for once. It’s not like she had anything else in life going for her. A jack of all trades lifestyle allowed her to have a lot of _interesting_ skills, none of which were of any use to her in the real world. What was she supposed to put on Job applications? _‘Hi, I can hot wire a car and hack into your bank account, but I’m kind of socially awkward and way more likely to punch you in the jaw than I am to shake your hand?’_ Yeah. That would go over really well in interviews.

“We’re here.” His voice woke her from her mingling haze of sleep and thought and Amy found herself outside a tall, prominent building that anyone in New York would know of at a glance: The Avengers Tower.  
“Why is Alex here?” She murmured, confusion spreading like wildfire across her gaze.    

He didn’t answer; instead he escorted her out of the car and into the building. The sun was low in the sky at that point, though Amy still wasn’t sure what time it was. For a city that never sleeps, nobody seemed to be outside yet. Amy figured it had to be closer to 5am, perhaps, give or take.  
  
They took an elevator up, up, and up again. Amy lost track of how many floors she passed before she dared to glance at the man beside her. Smoldering dark eyes focused straight ahead of him, as if he was trying to burn a hole in the elevator door and becoming increasingly furious at his own failure to do so. Thick waves of rich, brown hair framed his face, occasionally slipping into his field of vision, though judging by the death-stare he rocked that didn’t faze him any.

All at once, the elevator dinged, startling Amy to attention. The doors parted and the man in black led her down the hall, his grip on her arm tightening occasionally when she veered a little too far from him. It seemed that despite her story being confirmed as ‘true’ he still had his apprehensions.

After a twisting series of hallways and a blur of faces here and there, Amy was starting to suspect that she was in fact being marched to her own execution. She didn’t recognize these people. She didn’t know this place. Could Alex really be here? Of all places?  
Just as the eerily, terrified coil in the pit of her stomach began to tense, winding itself tighter and tighter, ready to spring, they came to a sharp stop. She nearly bumped into the man with how swiftly their pace had gone from a near-jog to a full force jolting halt.    

To her surprise, he raised one hand and knocked on the door.  
“Come in!” A voice she’d know anywhere replied, sounding as nervous as she felt.  
  
Leading her into what appeared to be a small apartment of sorts, Amy wasted no time on the scenery, not even bothering to glance at her surroundings before her gaze was drawn to the girl sitting on the edge of a cream-coloured couch, looking all the world as if she’d seen a ghost.

“Alex.” Amy breathed a sigh of relief, every single fear she’d felt over the past three years crashing down around her at once.  
She didn’t know how it happened, whether she moved first or if Alex had closed the distance, but somehow she found her arms wrapped tightly around her friend, a quiet sobbing coinciding between the two of them as every squandered opportunity, every missed phone call, every night of worry and day of searching all convolved into that one, fragile moment shared between them. After three years, _no_ , six years, no, after a _lifetime_ of not being ‘okay’, everything was suddenly ‘okay’ again.

Amy wouldn’t have let go if she hadn’t realized she was suffocating, however. Alex’s grasp was a few shades too tight, leaving a wincing pain in Amy’s ribs every time she struggled to inhale.  
“Breathing--Breathing is still a thing I do!” Amy managed to choke out as Alex relinquished her grip and took a step away, the back of her right hand wiping at the tears on her cheeks and hurrying to look a bit more presentable.  
“Sorry.” Alex shrugged apologetically, a smile shining through her tears.  
“It’s okay. I think we’re both a little overwhelmed right now.” Amy grinned. She was so used to Alex being the one who knew all the right things to say; The strong one who would set the world on fire if she got the chance to. Amy wondered when had their roles reversed themselves? When had she taken on that stronger role instead?  
  
“I hope my friends didn’t cause you too much trouble. Really, they were just looking out for me. You wouldn’t believe the year I’ve had.” Alex cast a nervous glance towards the figure in black who strode past Amy with ease, strutting about as if he owned the god-damn place.  
“No, not really. I mean, it was fun, you know, if your definition of fun involves potential bullet wounds and stalking, in which case, better than the carnival!” Amy offered a grin, but mild annoyance could be made out in her tone.  
“I see your sarcasm survived the encounter. I’ll consider you whole.” Alex jibed right back, leading her friend over to the couch where the two could sit and talk comfortably.

“I imagine you probably have a lot of questions, huh?” Alex asked, a look of embarrassed guilt fixing itself on her face.  
“Oh, y’know, only like a hundred.” Amy scoffed, gesturing to the apartment around them and then to the figure in black who was now rummaging through the fridge in the kitchen aimlessly, without a care in the world.  
“For starters, why are you living in the Avengers Tower? Why are you hanging out with an Assassin? Who is the attractive blonde man that just walked through that doorway?” The last part involved Amy clamping a hand over her stupid big mouth as an alarmingly good-looking man made his way in from what Amy could only assume was a shower, if his still-damp hair was any indication.

A choked laugh sounded from the kitchen, causing Amy to glance over at the man in black who seemed to be chortling into his drink. He caught her stare and quickly fixed his face back into a more serious expression. She narrowed her gaze at him with an ‘I’m watching you’ kind of look, unsure of how she felt about this ninja-looking motherfucker.

Alex smirked and gestured at the blonde man, who thankfully seemed oblivious to the last half of her statement.  
“That’s Steven. He’s a friend of mine. You _might_ know him as Captain America.” Alex chose her words carefully, gauging Amy’s reaction for any signs of her succumbing to shock.  
“Okay. Alright. Hanging out with a superhero. That’s totally normal. What about my dead-ringer? The redhead I met yesterday? Y’know, my substitute?” Amy smirked, to show she was only kidding.  
“Oh, that’s Natasha. Also known as Black Widow; Another member of the avengers.” Alex explained as calmly as if they were discussing the weather.  
“Cool-cool. And, uh, Ninja Mcgee, over there?” Amy asked, gesturing to the figure in black and trying to appear calm but internally exploding.  
“That’s my fiancé. James Barnes. His friends call him Bucky.”  
“Alright, well I guess we’re done here.” Amy cleared her throat and stood. Turning, she began to walk back towards the door, exiting out into the hallway before realizing she had no idea where she was supposed to go to bed out again.  
  
Alex started after her faster that Amy expected, spinning her younger friend around to face her once more.  
“What do you mean we’re done? You just got here!” She protested, an expression of concern and confusion on her face.  
“Alex, I was worried about you, but you seem like you’ve… really got a handle on things.” Amy lowered her tone if only to fight back the lingering feelings of hurt and regret.  
“You’ve got the Avengers to protect you, of _all_ people. You don’t need _me_ anymore.”  
  
For a moment Alex faltered, looking hurt and sullen, but with a shake of her head she released Amy’s arm and snapped back,  
“What the hell are you talking about?! Do you really think our friendship means so little to me that I could just let you walk out after all this time?”  
“But you’ve got them!” Amy gestured to the apartment, glancing quickly through the half-open door to where Steve and Bucky seemed to be chatting about something over sandwiches, not a care in the world. They probably figured the two girls had some things to hash out and wisely decided to stay the heck out of it

“And for that matter, Ames, yeah--we protected each other, but our friendship was worth so much more than that! Please don’t think that just because I’m safe now means I need you any less. There’s a lot more to fear in this world than physical violence. Who can I expect to understand me if you can’t?”  
“How am I supposed to just waltz back into your life after everything that’s happened?! You’re living with the Avengers! You’re engaged to some ninja-guy! It’s like I don’t even know you anymore!” Amy protested; her fear that too much time had passed between them to salvage what was left of their friendship plagued her every thought.  

“Please, Amy. Don’t leave me. Not again. Not like last time.” Alex’s gaze softened but Amy’s hardened, the words cutting her like a knife.  
“Don’t pull that card on me again, Alex! You know that I didn’t move away specifically to spite you! You’re what, 21 now? I’m 19! You turned legal three years ago! You could have looked for me first! It’s a two-way street, so don’t pretend that I’m the only one to blame!”  
“I asked my mother to take you in! It’s not my fault that she said no! What did you want me to do?!” Alex exclaimed, her tone rising in union with Amy’s.

“I wanted you to _try_ , Alex! Try and close the distance between us! Even when tossed around from foster home to foster home, I still managed to track you down year after year, having my ass hauled back to that hell-hole of the week each time. I’ve been driving cross-country since the day after my 18th birthday, looking for you! Even if I sometimes looked in the wrong places.” A tilt of her head revealed a dark purple bruise beneath her left eye and a bright red one across her right cheek. It was hard to tell from afar, but it looked as if Amy’s lip had been split open down the middle and was still in the process of healing.

For Alexandra, it was like looking into her childhood all over again. She already knew the source without needing to ask but she inquired just the same,  
“Who did it this time?” Alex’s tone softened, knowing that getting angry wasn’t going to make Amy stay.  
“Foster father number six. Lucky sixes, or so they say.” Amy paused, shoving her hands deep into her pockets and feeling so angry she almost wanted to punch something. She wasn’t mad at Alex. Not even a little. She was mad at the world and Alex happened to take the brunt of the emotion.      
  
“Ever since my dad died… All I’ve done is chase your shadow, Alex. All I’ve _ever_ done is try to belong with you. I’ve spent six years of my life running back to you…”  
“Then why are you running away now?” Alex stepped in, one hand touching Amy’s cheek, careful of the bruises, raising her head so their eyes met at last.

“So uh… are you guys gonna kiss or… fight or…something?” The red-head from yesterday, Natasha, hovered uncertainly a few feet away, a half-worried expression on her face and a bag of groceries in her off-hand.  
Alex’s hand dropped as if she’d been burnt and Amy stepped back, clearing her throat awkwardly.  
“We were just gonna, head back inside now.” Amy muttered and Alex nodded all too eagerly, as the three of them shuffled back indoors.  
  
Their conversation was by no means completed, but for the time being, Amy could let things sit.  
Now that they were together again, they had the rest of the foreseeable future to figure the rest out.

“So, do I get a proper introduction, or is everyone cool with weird nicknames?” Amy asked as she settled back down on the couch beside Alex, praying to whatever god willing to listen that her face didn’t look as red and blotchy as it felt.  
Alex shot Amy a playful warning glance and leaned forward,  
“Everyone, this is Amelia Owens. We grew up together. She’s like a sister to me. I hope you all can treat her with as much kindness as you’ve shown me. I think she could use it.”  
“Oh my god, shove that sentimental bullshit in the freezer, my heart can’t handle being thawed right now.” Amy snarked, nudging Alex with her shoulder who barely seemed to budge in response.

“Shut your face, I’m trying to give a proper introduction.” Alex replied, grinning ear to ear as she did.  
“This is Natasha, you’ve met her already.”  
“And what a meeting it was!” Alex squeaked, offering the fiery redhead a knowing smile.  
  
“This is Bucky. Yes, we’re dating. So, stop staring at his ass, please.” Alex teased, knowing full well that the only ass Amy had glanced at belonged to the quiet looking blonde at Bucky’s side, but she wanted to do her friend a favour and take the heat off her awkward comment from earlier.  
“Keep dreaming, sister. Tall, dark and horrifying isn’t my thing.”  
Amy took a quick glance at Bucky and shrugged, “No offence, man.”  
“None taken, Doll.” He replied, tilting his drink, an old fashioned glass bottle of coke, towards her in a cheers-motion. Already he seemed to have toned down his pit-bull aggression to somewhere around a six or so, did he warm up that quickly or did someone say something to him?  
  
Pulling her from her thoughts, Alex spoke again, turning her attention to the blonde from before,  
“And this, is Steve.” Alex let that little announcement linger in the air, waiting until Amy found her voice,  
“Captain America. I’ve read all about you.” Now was neither the place nor the time to geek out! Reining her inner-nerd in, Amy glanced away, looking for something else to talk about.  
  
Luckily, Alex was always exceptional at picking up on Amy’s social cues, a perk of being best friends she supposed, quickly moving the conversation towards an easier to navigate topic.  
“There’s a few others that live here as well, though I’m sure you’ll meet them later. Tony and Clint, just to name a few. They don’t live, _here,_ here as in this apartment, but _here_ in this building.” Alex gestured to their surroundings as she spoke, causing Amy to take in more of the expansive, clean-looking space.  
  
“This is actually Steve’s apartment. Bucky and I just moved in together in our own place a few floors down and are still getting furniture arrangements settled, so we figured meeting here would be for the best.”  
“I guess that’s your way of saying you’re glad I didn’t turn out to be a serial killer?” Amy leaned forward, trying to take it all in at once and wondering how in the world she’d ever wrap her head around any of it. This was all so much, so soon!  
  
“I don’t know about you guys, but I think I could use a non-smoking smoke-break.” Amy stood and Alex gestured immediately gestured towards Steve, a sly smile playing at her lips with every word she spoke,  
“Hey Steve, why don’t you show Amy out to the balcony?”  
“Oh-no, no, no! I can find it myself! No worries! Just point me in the right direction and I’m like a compass! ” Oh god, could that joke have been _any worse_? Alex was probably having a field day with how absolutely awkward Amy appeared. Revenge was a dish best served warmed, it seemed!

Here she was, finally reunited with her best friend, a sister even, after years of searching for her, only to find that she was hanging around with Captain America of all people? _THE_ Captain America? Not a cosplay, not a stunt-double, but the flesh and blood actual Captain America; The one that Amy harbored a crush on like an idiot possessed? Of course this would happen to her. _Of course._

With a pink tinge to her cheeks, Amy stiffly followed Steve out of the apartment and down a small hallway--how many hallways did this building have?!--before approaching a set of tall glass pane double doors that led out to a stunning view of New York City.  
  
Her embarrassment forgotten, Amy shuffled towards the edge of the balcony, gripping the railing with both hands and peering over the edge in delight. The view was phenomenal!  
“You get to see this every day? Oh man, I’d never get tired of this kind of view.”  
“You should try to get Alex out here sometime. She’s terrified--“  
“Of heights, yeah!” Amy nodded eagerly, finishing his sentence with a laugh, “Oh geez, I could just imagine her clinging to tall, dark and brooding over there, trying to put as much distance between her and the railing as possible.”  
“The last time we tried to get her out here, she got so mad she told us we couldn’t be friends anymore.” Steve chortled, remembering the moment fondly, at Alex’s expense.  
“Aha! Yeah, that sounds like something she’d say.” Amy agreed, the scene playing itself perfectly in her mind as if she’d been there.

All things considered, it seemed like Alex had really fallen into a crowd of good people who only wanted what was best for her. Even after everything, Amy still couldn’t help but wonder if she belonged in that kind of crowd. Superhero’s and deadly assassins? What use would a boring geek like Amy be?

Maybe Alex was better off, after all; Without Amy butting her way back in. Maybe all this time, Amy had been chasing shadows for a reason, the people attached to those shadows didn’t need her anymore, and she just wasn’t getting the hint.

As if noticing the girls sudden shift in emotion, Steve approached her, resting a hand on her shoulder and causing her to blink, startled.  
“C-can I help you?” She stammered, hoping she didn’t look as awkward as she felt.  
“Yeah, you can. Alex really seems like she missed you. I’ve never seen her act so comfortable around someone that wasn’t Bucky and the gang, myself included, of course. She’s been through a lot. Probably more than either one of could know. But hey, If you can make her laugh like that, then as far as I’m concerned, you must be good people. So do me a favor, Amy?”  
“Uh, sure? What’s up?” Amy could feel the warmth from his hand spreading across her shoulder, setting her upper half on fire and making her heart start to race.  
“Stick around a while, won’t you? I see the way you keep looking at the door like you want to make a run for it every five seconds. Don’t. I think that would really hurt her feelings if you up and left.”

Amy considered his request, turning his words over in her head a few times before finding words of her own to reply with,  
“…Alright. For now, I guess. I’ll play it by ear. See how things pan out.” She wouldn’t make any promises on where she’d end up. But at least for the time being, she’d stay.  
“That’s all I ask.”


	3. Chapter 3

Upon returning to the apartment, Alex offered Amy a perceptive smile, knowing full well what she’d arranged and hoping that it had worked out nicely in Amy’s favor.   
As Amy settled back down into her spot on the couch beside Alex, she watched with curiosity as her friend leaned in close to whisper in her ear, smirking with every word.  
“So, are you going to tell Captain America about all those nerdy comic books you have of him, or am I?”  
“Only if you want me to kill you, my dear; only if you want me to kill you.” Amy whispered in return, resulting in a delighted cackle from Alex, no doubt at her expense.

Amy and Alex spent the better half of the day playing catch-up, with the others interjecting here and there to fill in the blanks. Every word out of Alex’s mouth left Amy shocked and furious. David, no, _Ethan_ , Hydra, the SSX, it was just too much to take in at once. It was as if everything Alex had ever known was turned upside down and flipped out of order.  
  
“So you--you’re like a--a super soldier now?” Amy exclaimed with widened eyes, the shock registering clearly on her face.    
“It’s a bit more complicated than that, but yeah, for the most part.” Alex replied, still somewhat in awe of it herself.   
“Man… that’s so crazy, you could have died!” Amy shook her head, shuddering at the mere thought. She didn’t know what she’d do if Alex had died back then. After spending years running after Alex, where would she go when there was nothing left to chase? No shadow to follow? No trail to stalk? Amy pushed those thoughts aside, she wasn’t sure she could handle that kind of grief.

“But I didn’t. I’m still here. And now we can be together again.” Alex reached for Amy’s hand, offering it a reassuring squeeze that made Amy wince slightly from the tightness of her grasp. One thing was certain, her friend really needed to work on that grip strength.  
Amy nodded her agreement, not wanting to let on that she still felt woefully out of place beside Alex and her new friends. They could hash that out later, when they were alone.

“But what about you, Amy? We’ve spoken about me for hours, but you’ve barely said a word about yourself. What have you been up to?” Alex asked, a look of genuine curiosity on her face, eager to know what kind of trouble her best friend had been getting into as of late.  
“Well, nothing as exciting as serums and hot superhero’s, that’s for sure.” Amy laughed, hoping to divert the conversation away from her as quickly as possible, but Alex it seemed wasn’t having any of that.  
“Well, there’s still time for that later.” Alex winked and quickly pressed Amy for more information,   
“But really, Ames. What’s up?”

Amy paused, leaning back into her seat and exhaling on a long sigh.   
“When I wasn’t looking for you? I did a lot of stuff I shouldn’t have done. Fighting. Buying and selling some less than legal paraphernalia. Hacking, mostly. It’s hard to live a life free from responsibilities when you’ve got those pesky things like hunger and exhaustion creeping up on you, y’know?” Amy offered a soft laugh at the memory of the first time she’d actually managed to crack into an account; she bought herself three hundred dollars’ worth of groceries. It felt like Christmas and tasted like sin.

“I’m not a black-hat hacker though. I mean, yeah I stole money, but it was from some accounts that wouldn’t notice the difference anyway, just to buy groceries and keep gas in my car. I wouldn’t have done it if I wasn’t desperate--and before you ask, no, I never spent any of the money on drugs, I’m not an idiot.” Amy glanced down at herself, wondering what she looked like to them. An awkward little redhead with rips in her jeans and paint splatters on her sneakers; with a Doctor Who hoodie and three layers of shirts to cover up the bruises that marked her skin a dozen shades like a box of crayons.

She wasn’t a _good_ person. She wasn’t like Alex. The world had been cruel to Amelia Owens and the only way she knew how to get by in it was by being crueler. Broken was the only way she knew how to live.

“I dabbled in art for a while. And by art, I mean I pawned stolen work. Sometimes I made copies of rare pieces and sold them to collectors too stupid to tell the difference. You’d be impressed, Alex, I’m a regular fucking Picasso.” Amy was careful not to meet anyone’s gaze but Alex’s. She didn’t need their judgment. She wasn’t a super soldier. She wasn’t a hero. She did shit to get by and sometimes that shit fell into a morally grey zone.

“Really though, everything I did was just a distraction on my way to you.” Amy confessed, not a single hint of shame in her tone. “Besides, I’ve got to admit, hacking is fun as hell.”     
Peeking at Alex, she worried what she might find. Thankfully her friend didn’t seem upset, and if she was, she didn’t show it.

“Well, you don’t have to live like that anymore. I’m sure we could find you something for work here. Maybe Jarvis could use someone like you on hand to--“  
“Woah, woah, Alex, hold up. I’m not looking for any handouts here. I don’t need you to find me a job. I can take care of myself. “Amy protested, her tone somewhat defensive in nature.  
“This isn’t a handout, Ames. I just want to help you.” Alex asserted, her tone soft but her gaze insistent.   
“I don’t need help! There’s nothing wrong with how I live my life. I’m not ashamed of the things I’ve done. I did what I had to; I did what was needed for me to survive!” Amy didn’t think she’d have to justify her actions to Alex, but was prepared to do so regardless.   
“I’m not saying you should be ashamed; don’t put words in my mouth. I’m just saying that things can be different now. You can make an honest living--“   
“No--that’s exactly what you’re saying, Alex! ‘An honest living’? Do you _hear_ yourself? Your words have ‘judgment’ written all over them! I’m sorry that I couldn’t just sit behind some desk and shuffle folders day in and day out, you must be so disappointed in my lack of submissive civility!”  
“Would you please just listen to me, Amy?!” Alex pleaded, her tone rising in volume.   
“You know what, Alex? _No._ I’m sorry. I’m really tired, I think I’d like to go home for the night.” Amy stood, starting towards the door.   
“Amy—“  
“I’ll call you later. I’m glad you’re safe.”   
Wordlessly, Natasha followed suit, escorting Amy out of the building and back home without needing to be asked.

The car ride back felt longer than Amy remembered, with neither of them having much of anything to say. At last when Amy was certain she couldn’t stand the silence a moment longer, Natasha spoke, casting a worried glance Amy’s way.  
“She’s just looking out for you.”  
“She’s a little late. I learned how to look out for myself six years ago. No thanks to her.”  
“I’m no therapist, but it sure feels like you’re holding that against her.”  
Amy tensed, how could she explain it in a way that anyone else could understand? What was she supposed to stay? Years of abuse had turned her into something angry and violent and broken. Broken in a way that even Alex couldn’t fix.   
“It’s hard to explain.” Amy exhaled, not even knowing where to begin.  
“It’s a long ride. I’m not going anywhere.”

Amy didn’t reply. She stared at the window, drowning in her own thoughts for a long while.  
What did it all even boil down to anyway? Maybe she only had herself to blame. She’d fixated on Alex for so long, making her every act something that would draw her closer towards the memory of the girl she knew.   
Maybe in the end, she’d lost her hold on ‘Alex, the person’ and instead knew only ‘Alex, the ideal’.  
For so long, Amy allowed Alex to be the one thing that kept her going; after every beating, after every fight, after every deal gone wrong; she’d always thought of Alex for strength.   
But was Alex ever even thinking of her?  
  
After a while, Amy spoke, trying to make sense of how torn she felt at last.  
“It’s like I said before, I just wanted her to _try_. I mean, yeah, she begged and pleaded with her mom to take me in. And yeah, it wasn’t her fault when the old lady said no. But… all that time… all that time we were separated; I was the one always running back. I was the one closing the distance. I was the one keeping tabs. I just wanted to feel like… I wasn’t the _only_ one.”

“Sometimes things happen in life that we don’t understand. I’m sure she has her reasons.” Natasha interjected, her gaze never leaving the road as she spoke.   
“I’d love to know them.” Amy sighed as the car came to a halt outside her apartment.   
“Maybe you should ask.”  
  
Amy didn’t reply, instead, she unclicked her seatbelt and unlocked her door, stepping out of the car and lingering for a moment on the curb.   
“Do you think she’ll want to see me again?”  
“Probably. I hear best friends don’t stay mad at each other very long.” Natasha pointed out as Amy closed the car door and said her goodbyes.   


* * *

 

  
Back in her apartment, Amy collapsed onto her bed, exhausted after the day’s events and wondering how she’d managed to stay awake so long.   
She wasn’t sure how long she’d slept, but it was dark by the time she awoke to a loud, pounding coming from another room.

Groggily she made her way towards the front door, where someone seemed to be banging furiously.  
Yanking the door open, she came face to face with Lucas for the second time in less than 24 hours.   
“What the hell do you want?” She snapped, wishing she’d kept a bat near the door for times like this.  
“You know what I want.” He growled, stepping forward and forcibly pushing her aside.   
“Yeah, and I’m not interested. Maybe your other kids are fine with playing the system for easy cash, but I’m not!” She hissed, taking only a half-step back but wishing she’d pushed him out the door instead.  
  
“Oh, you say that, darlin’, but word on the street claims otherwise. You think I wouldn’t hear about that computer tech shit you do? I know you can get me money and I want it now or else I just might have to hand your ass over to the authorities.”  
“With what proof, dipshit? I oughta call the police on your ass for the things _you’ve_ done!” Lucas was dumber than he looked if he thought for a second that she’d left any kind of trail from where she’d been. Lucas smirked in reply, taking another step forward and gripping Amy’s shoulders with both hands.   
Despite her struggling, he managed to back her up against the nearest wall, pinning her by the throat with the bulk of his forearm while his free hand crawled across her waist.   
“I’ve got a lot of friends in this city, Amelia. You think I’d stay locked up long? You reallywanna take that risk?” As if to emphasize his point, he tugged the zipper of her hoodie down, reaching one hand past the fabric to give her left breast a squeeze. She clawed at his neck and tried to reach for his face but his weight held her at an arms-length.   
“Don’t you touch me, you son of a bitch!” She spat at him but he didn’t even wince, her tone turning darker, husky with desire.   
“It’ll be my word against yours, Amelia, and I’ve got friends in high places.”  
  
“Yeah? Well she’s got friends in higher ones.” A familiar voice called out, causing Lucas to turn only to meet a blow to the face. His grip on Amelia released as he fell down to the floor in one hit, knocked out cold.  
Standing over him looking furious was Alex, her hands balled into fists and her breathing heavy. She immediately turned to Amy, and looked her up and down for any signs of injury.  
“Did he hurt you?”   
“Just my pride. How’s your hand?”   
“I think I cracked my knuckles on his jaw. Other than that, totally fine.” Alex replied cheerfully, happy that her friend was alright. The two hugged for a long moment, Alex being careful not to squeeze too tightly this time, but still tight enough to show she cared.  
  
After catching her breath and feeling her racing heart settle down at last, Amy finally inquired,  
“Not that I’m ungrateful or anything but… what the hell are you doing here?”   
“I stopped by to tell you that you’re right… and that I’m sorry.”  
“Wait--What?”  
“I said I’m sorry.” Alex repeated, her gaze open and honest.  
“I… I don’t understand.”  
“About earlier? When you said that were the one always running after me, that I never tried to close the distance between us… you were right. You were always running and I always was content to let you do that.” Alex’s voice sounded hoarse, her eyes seemed wet but she didn’t cry, she simply continued to explain,   
“I was so wrapped up in my own little hell that I never once stopped to think of yours. Maybe if I’d tried running after you, we would have found each other sooner.” Amy tried to speak but Alex raised a hand to silence her, needing to finish, needing to say it properly.  
“Amy, you’re right. I could have tried harder and I didn’t. For that, I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”  
  
Alex lowered her hand, implying that she’d said her piece. Amy lingered for a moment before darting forward and hugging Alex as tightly as she could manage.   
“It’s okay. I forgive you. Always.” She mumbled into the brunette’s neck as she tried to fight off tears.

A loud groan of pain drew both girls attention to the floor where a groggy Lucas was just getting back up.   
“I suggest you gather yourself together and get the fuck out, Lucas.” Amy warned, knowing that Alex would be all too keen to wail on him if he tried anything.   
Lucas took one look at Alex and sneered, shambling off towards the door in mild stumbling confusion.   
“Don’t think this is over, Amelia.” He muttered as he scrambled off into the hallway.  
“For your sake, it better be!” Alex threatened, moving towards the door and watching as Lucas headed down the stairs, listening as he left the complex.

Glancing towards Amy, Alex offered a sheepish smile,   
“Wanna go grab a coffee?”   
Amy laughed and nodded her consent, “Yeah, I think I could use one after all the sleep I’m not getting.”


	4. Chapter 4

The coffee shop was quiet for such a late hour of the night, with only one or two patrons mingling in the booths lining the walls or propped up at the small tables haphazardly spread out across the dining area.  
The low sound of light chatter and the electronic beeping of laptops, tablets or other electronic devices remained a constant background noise in each and every patron’s conversation. Amy and Alex paid for their drinks and slid into an empty booth in the northwest corner of the shop.  
Before their conversation could properly begin, a voice called out from the front counter and a young brunette shuffled over with a steaming styrofoam cup in her off hand.  
“Amy, hey; I haven’t seen you in a while.” The brunette had a dark mark under her left eye that was just barely covered up by foundation, she seemed jittery and nervous. Her tone was low, as if she was afraid of being overheard.  
“Oh, Sarah! Hi, how have you been?” Amy’s tone seemed much softer than usual, lacking the harshness that was common to nearly every other altercation she had.  
“Good, good. Things are… things are good.” Sarah seemed nervous, but then that was always her personality. Like a wilting wallflower, her every sentence was rife with insecurity and needless repetition.  
“I was just making plans for a poetry night here next week if you’re interested. There’s a ten dollar entrance fee, half that if you perform something though.” Sarah shifted her drink from one hand to the other, revealing a faint trail of scabbed-over marks across her wrist and up her arm, disappearing into the crook of her elbow where the sleeve buried her skin. Amy was about to reply when a harsh noise startled her.

“Sarah! Come on! I don’t have all night, get your ass over here!” A rough voice, shouting over the otherwise hushed tones of the establishment, sounded from the doorway, drawing the eyes of nearly every patron in the shop towards it. A dark haired man glared at the petite brunette, who almost jumped in response.  
“Sorry, Brendan! I’ll be right there—“  
“NOW!” He interjected, making quite a few patrons appear visibly uncomfortable  
“I-I-I have to get going, Amy. I’ll call you later!” She promised and fled into the embrace of the waiting man who gripped her waist tight enough to make her visibly wince from the force.  
“You don’t happen to have a waiting list for people needing to be knocked the fuck out, do you?” Amy asked Alex through gritted teeth, fury in her gaze.  
“That guy’s on it. Twice.” Alex replied, just barely managing to hold herself together. It didn’t need any saying; they both knew they couldn’t go after someone like Brendan out in the open. If they made a scene, Alex’s cover would be blown, and worse off, they didn’t need some pedestrian thinking he could play Hero by jumping in to help. As awful as it was, they had to let Sarah go and deal with Brendan later. Amy quietly hoped that maybe he was just having a bad day and only looked like a giant asshole in that moment. She had her doubts though.

“Sarah is a really sweet girl. It’s a shame she doesn’t realize how much better she is than that dick. What’s up with this town anyway? It’s almost like “good girls getting involved with bad guys” is a theme or something. Did I miss the memo?”  
“Judging by the way Lucas was acting earlier, I’d say you got that memo just fine.” Alex replied on a sour note.  
Amy frowned at the memory. She didn’t want to think of that right now. She didn’t know where she’d be if Alex hadn’t shown up when she did.  
“Let’s talk about something more pleasant, shall we?” Alex piped up, turning the conversation towards more cheerful subjects.  
“How about the Ninja you’re sleeping with?” Amy smirked, noting the way Alex’s skin flared pink at the mere mention of Bucky Barnes.  
“I mean, you have slept with him, right?” Amy pressed her for details, semi-curious as to the sexual exploits of two super soldiers in love.  
“I’m sworn to silence. Y’know, Government secrets and all.” Alex laughed, pressing a hand against her chest and raising the other as if she were honoring the flag.  
“Government secrets my ass. You’re just playing coy.”  
“Let me put it this way, if it was bad, you’d know.” Alex smirked into her beverage, content to keep quiet about her private affairs as she hastily downed her drink as an excuse not to speak.  
“So… Captain America? You’re friends with him?” Amy quirked an eyebrow, trying to bite back the grin that spread across her lips.  
“I knew you were going to ask about him! You should tell Steve you’re his number one fan. I bet that will go over really well.” Alex chuckled at Amy’s expense.  
“Y’know, I still remember the days when I thought Captain America was a publicity stunt. I can’t believe he’s… _you’re_ a superhero. The tower is real. Superhero’s exist. They tear up town on a daily basis, but good god, they do exist!” Amy leaned back in her seat, rather in awe of it all. Alexandra Chase, her best friend, a super hero? Captain America, a _real_ person? It was enough to make a girl wonder if she wasn’t trapped in a hospital bed somewhere, three years into a lifelong coma.

“Hey! We’re still people like you, we still have feelings and fears and anxieties. That hasn’t changed... we haven’t changed.” Alex assured her, one hand reaching out to give Amy’s left hand a squeeze.  
Amy squeezed back and offered a less than encouraging smile.  
“Yeah, I know. It’s just hard not to feel like the odd one out when your best friend suddenly has super powers and a ninja boyfriend, while you’re a glorified street rat, at best.” Amy took a sip of her drink, the hot beverage burning her tongue with every gulp. It was just enough to sting but not enough to make her stop, much like everything else in her life.

“Amy, come on, I told you. We can change that now. We can find you a job, hell, I bet Tony would kill a man for a cute new secretary working for him. We could get you your own room at the Tower, no, your own floor! I’d be just an elevator ride away. You and me, together again, just think about it!” Alex seemed so excited and persistent that it was almost difficult for Amy not to muster up any enthusiasm of her own.  
“Alex…” Amy began but Alex shot her a worried glance,  
“Amy, come on… I’m just trying to help you.”  
“Alex, listen. I appreciate the offer, I do… but—“ Amy groaned, it was so hard to put her feelings into words in a way that Alex could understand!  
“I’m not… I’m not like you guys. I’ve done a lot of fucked up stuff. I’m not a good person. I don’t think I know how to be any other way than what I am right now.”  
“Good is subjective. _I_ think you’re good, in fact, I _know_ you’re good. And besides, you don’t have to be an angel to check people into a building for meetings.” Alex could see the apprehension in Amy’s gaze so she pressed on,  
“So you’ve done some stuff in the past that wasn’t the most honest or the most sane. Who hasn’t? We’ve all done things we regret. We’ve all got our demons.”  
“I don’t think my demons play well with others.” Amy conceded, swallowing another mouthful of her still too-hot beverage.  
“They’ll learn.” Alex finished the rest of her drink in another large mouthful and tossed the cup into a nearby trash-can, scoring it into the bin in one perfect shot.  
After a long pause, Amy rose from her seat,  
“I’m not living in the tower.” she protested, but her tone was that of reluctant agreement.  
“For now.” Alex smirked as she stood, waiting for Amy to finish and toss her own drink out, the shorter girl having had to walk the distance to the bin to do so.  
“You’re persistent.” Amy declared as they made their way out of the café, Alex seeming to be in considerably higher spirits than when they’d arrived.  
“Well, It’s worked so far.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this time, sorry for the delay, life happened. I'm working on more though!


	5. Chapter 5

The days that followed were a blur for Amy. Alex had held true to her claims about convincing Tony Stark to hire Amy on as a secretary, though much of that convincing had probably involved the phrases ‘She’s cute’, ‘She has a crush on Steve’ and ‘feel free to make fun of her for it’ if Amy knew Alex as well as she thought she did.  
  
Somehow that whirlwind of events had led Amy to sitting behind a desk in the Tower lobby for the third day in a row, outfitted in one of Alex’s hand-me-down dress-suits with her hair pulled back into a bun, hoping that her latest attempt at friendly smiling didn’t make her look as psychotic as she thought it did.  
  
With most of Tony’s work being handled outside the tower, Amy’s first day had been relatively low-key with only one or two visitors showing up. Her secretarial responsibilities were limited to answering phones, scheduling appointments, giving directions and keeping records. It wasn’t particularly difficult work but Amy was nervous about messing it up regardless. She’d never held down a ‘proper’ job before and the prospect was a little overwhelming.  
  
Her second day had seen even less foot traffic than the first, though her return from lunch had revealed a small trinket had been left atop her desk. In the center of a pile of papers, a Captain America bobble-head sat with a scrawled-on post-it note stuck to its face.  
_‘This doll has more personality than Steve. Feel free to tell him I said that._  
 _–Tony’_  
  
Amy chuckled to herself and moved the small toy to a corner of the desk, allowing it to keep a watchful eye over her work. The latter half of her second day remained as uneventful as the former and by time her third day rolled around she was partially convinced this wasn’t even a real job and that Tony had just made it up as a favor to Alex.  
  
The hours dragged on, without as much as a phone call between them, until it was five pm and the building officially closed to the public.  
Gathering her belongings, Amy wasted no time locking up the inner doors of the building. As she moved outside, she switched keys to secure the outer lock, noticing a figure approaching from the corner of her eye.  
  
“I’m sorry, we’ve closed for the evening.” She announced on a turn, facing an unfamiliar man in a trench coat and top hat.  
“I don’t mean to intrude, but I have a meeting scheduled with Mr.Stark this evening. If you could let me in, I’ll happily wait for him in the lobby. No need to trouble yourself any further.” The man spoke in a polite yet condescending tone.  
Amy’s gaze narrowed as she delivered her lines with cold indifference,  
“I’m sorry, Sir, but Mister Stark didn’t inform me of any expected visitors at this time and I don’t believe he is available at the moment. As you can see, the building is closed to the public after five pm and procedure states that it cannot be reopened until the following morning. You’ll have to return tomorrow during business hours.”  
The man in the trench coat sneered, he obviously didn’t enjoy being denied.  
“Listen, Amelia—“ he began with a glance towards Amy’s nametag, “I’m sure your boss appreciates you doing your job thoroughly, and I bet all those coffee-break blowjobs you’re giving him in his office will really earn you that promotion soon, but I don’t give a shit what time the building closed or what your procedure entails.” Amelia visibly tensed but before she could tell the trench coat man off, he took a menacing step forward, and continued his rant,  
“Now you better unlock that door right now before I bash your pretty little skull against this glass and take the keys from your twitching corpse.”  
Instinctively Amy reached into her bag, her fingers gripping around a small butterfly knife that she kept on her person at all times since her last run in with step-douche.  
  
“Amy! Hey! Just getting off work?” Bounding up behind the trench-coat figure with a grin the size of a small country was an uncomfortably familiar mop of blond hair and blue eyes.  
“Steve! Yeah, I am. It’s good to see you.” Amy exclaimed, nearly delirious with relief. She immediately released her grip on the knife and stepped towards the towering figure who was clearly quite oblivious to the prior horrifying exchange.  
The trench coat man instinctively took a step back, perhaps he recognized Steve or perhaps he just didn’t like his odds anymore because he quickly mumbled a sharp goodbye and made a hasty retreat down the opposite intersection.  
“What was that about?” Steve inquired, watching as the trench coat man fled out of sight.  
“It’s… nothing important. Just someone asking for directions.” Amy dismissed the notion, not wanting to needlessly worry Steve with a situation that she’d already had under control.  
“Oh, alright then. Are you headed home for the night?” Steve asked, leaning against the door that Amy had just dutifully locked tight, a set of keys dangling loosely in his off hand.  
“That’s the plan.” Shifting her weight from one foot to the other, Amy wondered for a moment briefly if telling Steve the truth of the matter might be in her best interest. The last thing she needed was some psycho in a trench coat kidnapping her in the parking lot… yet, she refrained. Just because she was friends with a bunch of superhero’s now didn’t mean she’d go running to them at every sign of trouble. She still considered herself to be entirely capable of taking care of her own, she’d managed just fine this far, anyway.  
“I could walk you to the lot, I don’t mind.” Steve offered as if he’d read her thoughts. She shook her head, feeling considerably more foolish now that he’d suggested it.  
“No—no, but thank you, really. It’s just a short distance, you don’t need to trouble yourself.”  
“I never said I’d be troubled.” Steve smiled and Amy felt a knot inside her coil just a little bit tighter around itself. She tried to ignore it, that tense, almost frightened, feeling.

There was no denying that Steve Rogers was many things, smart, strong, talented, handsome, just to name a few. But if there was one thing Steve Rogers was _not_ … it was trouble.  
Captain America was the pillar of clean cut, wholesome living; of sobriety and loyalty, of law and justice.  
Amelia Owens was trouble, trouble with a clean coat of paint thrown on to try and hide the dents, but trouble nonetheless. No matter which way she tried to spin it, Amy knew that deep down there was no way that a man like him could ever deserve a girl as messed up as her.  
Captain America was a hero. He deserved someone clean like him.  
  
With that in mind, Amy offered him a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes and turned away,  
“It’s alright. Don’t let me keep you. Have a good night, Steve.” Without looking back, she waved him off, crossing the short span of distance from the building to the lot at twice her normal speed, eager not to look back at the Hero she’d left standing behind there.  
With the building to her back, Amy did a quick sweep of the parking lot. Thankfully it was empty. Trench coat man had likely been spooked by Steve’s appearance and buggered off. Good.  
  
While fishing her keys out of her bag, she took a good long glance through her windows into the backseat, making sure that she wouldn’t have any unexpected visitors. She’d seen enough horror movies to be paranoid and people seldom got kidnapped by being careful.  
Amy hurried through the start-up process, hastily clicking her seat belt into place and adjusting her rear-view mirror, giving the grounds another quick glance and assuring once more that creeper-in-a-trench-coat was nowhere to be seen.  
  
Pulling out of the lot, Amy passed by the tower, hating herself for glancing towards the doors, where she could clearly see Steve locking up the building from the inner set now, having let himself in to go home no doubt.  
A small pang of guilt flashed through her, but she pushed it away. This was for the best, after all. Steve was a good man who deserved good things. Keeping her distance would be for the best.

As she drove along in silence, she fortified her decision. She would leave her respect for Captain America to the novels and the comics and the paraphernalia that lay in various boxes scattered around her apartment. She would bury her quiet admiration underneath a distant gaze and a dismissive wave. She wouldn’t let herself get close to him, it wouldn’t be right.  
The best she could do for him was not get involved.  
  
By the time she’d stepped through her front door, Amy was feeling pretty confident in her decision. It would be easy keeping her distance from Rogers, it’s not like she was working for him. All she had to do was avoid social situations that might involve the blond, so ultimately Alex would be the only loose end left to address.  
As she kicked off her shoes, a familiar ringtone sounded from the front pocket of her bag.  
“Speak of the devil and the devil appears.” She murmured, glancing at the caller ID to see Alex’s name displayed.  
  
“Alex?” Amy answered the phone with one hand and began unbuttoning her suit jacket with the other.  
“ _No_ , it’s the Queen of England. Of course it’s me!”  
“I’m honored your highness. To what do I owe the pleasure?”  
“Shutup. Anyway, I’m calling because Bucky and I were thinking of inviting a few friends over tomorrow for dinner, as like, a housewarming thing, y’know? Anyway, we’re still getting settled in and the place isn’t really functioning at max capacity so we wanted to keep it small, on the cozy side.” Amy had a feeling she knew where this conversation was going and dreaded every second of it.  
  
“So, Bucky suggested you and I suggested Steve and well… there you have it. Dinner! Six o’clock. Don’t be late.”  
“I… I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Amy said, choosing her words carefully and hoping that the lingering silence that followed wasn’t a bad sign.  
“I-I’m sorry, a-are you being held at gunpoint and forced to say those words? Because the Amy _I remember_ would have _lost her mind_ if I told her she was having dinner with Captain America.”  
“Alex, I just don’t want to get too attached to him.”  
“Look, if someone’s in the room, we can just talk in code, I think I still remember the phrases—“  
“I’m not being held at gunpoint, Alex!”  
“Well, that’s exactly what a girl being held at gunpoint _would_ say!”  
“Alex! I don’t want to get involved—“  
“Involved? Amy, who’s getting involved? I’m asking you to have dinner with the man not agree to an arranged marriage. You want to hate Captain American for no foreseeable reason, do that shit on your own time, but you’re coming to my house tomorrow! Besides, I know where you live and I’m engaged to a ninja, this phone call’s just courtesy, do you really think this is a request?”

Amy exhaled on a long sigh and plopped down on her couch, gripping the phone a little bit tighter than before,  
“You just don’t understand.”  
“You’re right. I don’t. I spent my entire childhood listening to you go on and on about Captain America and how cool and brave and strong he is. And now I’m inviting you to dinner with him and suddenly you’re booking a flight out of the country at dawn. What the hell, Amy? What small continent did he have to blow up in order to earn your unbridled fury towards him? When did he stop being your hero?”  
“He never stopped being my hero! He’s still all of those things! It’s because he’s those things that I don’t want to do this! He’s a great man! I don’t want… I don’t want to ruin him.” Amy’s voice was soft, admitting her fears out loud only seemed to give them power, making them seem twice as awful in the spotlight.  
“Amy, how does that logic even work? He’s dealt with the shadiest and grimiest of people and still turns out just fine. Even if you were an awful person, and I know for a fact that you’re not, what could you possibly do that could ruin him?” Alex asked matter-of-factly.  
  
Amy didn’t reply. There was no simple explanation. This situation was different. She wasn’t a monster in need of slaying or a villain in need of pursuing. She couldn’t be locked up or shot down or chased off. She was a person. She wasn’t someone he could destroy and be hailed as a hero for. She was just a stupid kid with too many bad choices on her never ending list of regrets. He didn’t need someone like her weighing down on his reputation.  
  
After a long moment of silence, Amy finally spoke,  
“I don’t have an easy answer for you, Alex.”  
“Then I guess you’re coming to dinner, now aren’t you? Wear something nice?”  
“I don’t own anything nice.” Amy smirked, managing to cheer up slightly at her own remark.  
“If you show up to my house in some ripped jeans and a hoodie, I’m dragging you into my room and dressing you myself.” Alex warned, her tone playful but the threat behind it was deadly serious.  
“What if I show up in not-ripped jeans and a hoodie? Or ripped jeans and a cardigan? What about ripped shorts? Are ripped sweatpants acceptable?”  
“I’ll see you at six! In NICE clothes!”  
“Well of course, all your clothes are nice, Alex.”  
“Goodnight!”  
Amy laughed to herself as they ended the call, feeling a bit less sour than she had a moment prior.  
So much for trying to avoid Steve Rogers, though. Now she was stuck going to dinner with him. That plan backfired gloriously. At least she’d have Alex and Bucky there as a buffer, maybe all she had to do was avoid making eye contact with Rogers and feign a sore throat for a few hours. _Yeah._ Like that would go over _really well_.  
With a groan, she flopped back onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling and wondering just what she was going to do about tomorrow.  
 


	6. Chapter 6

By the time six pm rolled around the following day, Amy found herself in the Avengers Tower, way too many floors up, outside Alex’s door with a pie in her offhand, nervously shuffling her weight from one foot to the next.

Per Alex’s demand, Amy had donned the nicest thing she owned, a black knee-length dress with a white heart pattern and a peter pan collar. Black tights and knee-high boots kept the anxious girl from showing off too much skin; she didn’t want anyone spotting old scars or bruises and forcing her to explain how she’d gotten them.  
Over the dress she wore a black cardigan, figuring that the light sweater would be enough to keep her warm throughout the evening. The ghost of summer was fading and autumn would be upon them soon, with some luck, she wouldn’t need to drag her winter coats out just yet.

With the clothing situation handled, she had one of her many anxieties addressed. Amy knew that she needed to keep a distance between herself and Rogers, but that his good nature would very likely get in the way of her good intentions. With that plaguing her mind, she proceeded to do the only thing she could possibly think of to keep him at bay.

That morning she’d bleached her hair a hideous blonde and then proceeded to cover every inch of that blonde with the brightest shades of blue and violet the drug store carried. The top of her head was a vibrant, eye catching lagoon blue which carefully gradient-faded into a shocking dark aubergine shade.

Amy used to dye her hair all variety of colors back in high-school, but had stopped after graduation, when she’d started looking for Alex cross country, and just didn’t have the time or energy to maintain it anymore.

When the dye-job was done, she took a set of scissors to it and shaped it into a messy, jagged shoulder-length cut with layered bangs half obscuring her face.  
All things considered, she actually felt a lot more comfortable with this hairstyle than her old one.  
Amy figured that someone as old-fashioned as Steve Rogers would never be able to get past her neon-colored hair, and would hopefully be hesitant enough to deter them from developing a proper friendship. Amy didn’t want to have to reduce herself to being mean to him. She hoped that this would be enough.  
After adjusting her cardigan one last time, Amy raised her hand and knocked on the door.  
The door opened almost immediately, putting Amy face to face with Alex whose smile quickly melded into a look of shock and confusion.  
“WHAT DID YOU DO TO YOUR HAIR?!!”  
“Hey Alex. I brought pie.” Without missing a beat, Amy gestured to the small container in her hands, holding it out to Alex who didn’t make any motions to accept it.  
“YOUR BEAUTIFUL RED HAIR! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!”  
“It’s chocolate mousse. I remember you liked that. Does Bucky like Chocolate Mousse?”  
“DID YOU GET THIS DONE AT A SALON?! I mean it’s really well done--BUT WHO SAID THIS WAS OKAY? DID YOU GO TO WORK LIKE THAT? DID TONY SEE IT?! IS THIS A WIG?!”  
“If he doesn’t, we could probably swing by the store right quick and pick up something else. I just figured he looked like a pie person to me. But I mean, everybody looks like a pie person to me.”  
“I AM NOT OKAY WITH THIS DECISION!”  
“Oh. Should I have made cake instead?”

Peering out from the kitchen, Bucky cast a worried glance towards the door, noticed Amy’s mess of brightly coloured hair and smirked.  
“Pie’s fine. Thanks, Amy. Nice hair.”  
“WOULD EVERYONE PLEASE STOP TALKING ABOUT THE PIE!” Alex snapped, snatching the container from Amy’s hands and setting it down on the kitchen counter while Amy let herself in and shut the door behind her.  
From down the hall appeared Steve, looking at first a little taken aback, but quickly readjusting his features to appear more presentable.  
“Amy! Your hair! It’s… uh, it’s different.”  
“Yeah.” Amy agreed, nodding a few too many times as she struggled to figure out what to say. Conversation wasn’t really her strong suit.  
“Well, we won’t lose her in a crowd now, will we Doll?” Bucky chimed in with a smile, placing a hand on Alex’s hip to offer her a reassuring squeeze. The two shared a brief hug before Alex padded back into the kitchen, gathering a stack of plates and utensils and handing half of them to Amy who’d followed.

  
As the two girls set to work laying out the silverware in the adjoining Dining Room, Alex lowered her voice to inquire,  
“What’s with the rainbow parade?”  
“I needed a change of pace.” Amy shrugged, not meeting her friends gaze.  
“Is that the only reason?” Alex didn’t sound very convinced.  
“Do I need another?” Amy inquired, quirking an eyebrow towards Alex and watching as her friend sighed in response.  
“Y’know, for someone who spent all that time chasing me down… I can’t help feeling like some days you think you’re still running.”  
“It’s ‘cause some days I am.” Amy murmured, gathering up the extra supplies and returning them to the kitchen without another word.  
Alex followed her in and picked up the pie carton off the counter to move it into the fridge, smirking as she glanced at the price tag on the bottom.  
“This pie you made looks an awful lot like the kind we get from Vinnie’s Bakery down the street. It’s even got a price tag.”  
“I don’t know _what_ you’re talking about.” Amy feigned innocence, biting back a smirk of her own.  
“I’m gonna finish up making dinner, send Bucky in here. You go make nice with Steve.” Alex nudged Amy towards the balcony where two glass double doors revealed Steve and Bucky had migrated outdoors to chat.  
“Alex—“ Amy’s tone was hesitant and reluctant but Alex wasn’t having any of it.  
“Do we want to eat tonight or did we change our minds at some point? Kindly send my fiancé back in here, please?” Alex pleaded, shooting Amy a ‘just do it, would you?’ glance.  
“Alright.” Amy resigned, moving towards the door with as slow a pace as she could get away with.

Stepping out onto the balcony, Amy nudged her head towards Bucky and then back towards the kitchen, “Trade you.” Bucky caught on quickly enough, jumping up from his spot and patting Amy on the arm affectionately before heading back in to join Alex in the kitchen.  
Amy moved to the space where Bucky had occupied, feeling stiff and awkward across from Steve with nothing useful or interesting to say.  
Thankfully Steve broke the silent, offering a friendly smile as he took in the sight of Amy’s new hair style for the second time that day.  
“It suits you.” He nodded, as if agreeing with the weight of his own statement.  
“…what?” Amy blinked, feeling as if her heart had just dropped right out of her chest.  
“Your hair. It suits you. Alex told us stories about you and all the crazy stuff you did as kids. You always seemed so…”  
“Troubled? Careless? Dangerous?” Amy offered to fill in the blank, but Steve shook his head.  
“I was going to say cool. Edgy. Not like us. I dare say I feel a bit boring compared to you.”  
  
Did Captain America just say he felt boring in comparison? Amy wasn’t sure she’d heard him right. There was no way he could have been referring to her!  
“I never thought a superhero would call _me_ cool. Scratch that one off the bucket list, for sure.” Amy laughed, still reeling from his words. She couldn’t wrap her head around them! Steve Rogers thought she was cool?  
“You fight bad guys for a living and you think _I’m_ cool? How many lives have I saved this week? I’ll give you a hint, it rhymes with ‘done’. I’m not cool, Steve, you outrank me for miles.”  
Steve wasn’t having any of it, he shook his head, pressing the subject further.  
“Alex said you used to do some hacking?”  
“Yeah, but so does Natasha. It doesn’t make me special.” Amy protested, wondering just what he was getting at.  
“Natasha is a spy and that’s putting it mildly. The fact that you can do something that she does without any formal training is impressive in its own right. Don’t sell yourself short, Amy. You really are cool.”

Amy wasn’t sure what to say so she mumbled a brief thanks and averted Steve’s gaze, instead choosing to stare out at the bustling New York streets below them and contemplate her situation.  
There was no use denying it, her plan had backfired spectacularly. Instead of making Steve indifferent, he seemed all the more interested in her. She’d practically painted a target on her head! Before she could decide which way to dig in order to free herself from the hole she’d landed in, Steve broke the silence.

“Alex speaks very fondly of you, by the way. The stories she tells are impressive. If even half of what she says is true then you have more nerve than most the guys I enlisted with.”  
“Yeah, in what, the 1940’s? Of course I’ve got more nerve than them, those guys are all dead by now. Oh—shit, sorry. That was rude of me. I didn’t mean it like that.” Amy stammered, feeling like a total asshole with every passing sentence.  
“No, It’s okay, I know what you meant. Don’t worry about it, Alex said you were clumsy with words.”  
“Yeah well, she’d know best.” Amy muttered, still feeling like an atomic asshole.

  
“Speaking of Alex, how are things between you? I noticed that you’ve decided to stick around after all. I’m glad. She needs you in her life right now. She’s going through a lot.” The concern in Steve’s gaze was undeniable. He obviously cared for Alex as if she were his sister, with genuine worry and a small hint of fear. For a flicker of a second, Amy felt the tiniest hint of jealousy that Alex had people in her life that looked at her that way. She wondered when the last time anyone had ever viewed her with that kind of emotion, excluding Alex. Amy couldn’t recall.  
“Things are getting better. A lot’s changed between us, but… a lot’s stayed the same too. I’m less angry. I’m… learning to forgive her.”  
“Because you know she did the right thing?” It was more of a question than a statement but it rubbed her the wrong way, causing her to tense up and half-turn away from him, shaking her head in disagreement.  
“But that’s just it, Steve. Sometimes the _‘right thing’_ isn’t the right thing for everyone. Sometimes you have to do the right thing for yourself and pray to god that there’s minimal casualties.” She spoke as if she’d been forced to make this kind of choice before, with a crack in her voice and dampness in her eyes.  
“I believe that Alex did what was right for her. And, in all honesty, I’m not justified in holding that against her. But I will never believe that what was right for Alex was right for me. She did what she had to, what was needed to survive. But I’m not going to sit here and pretend that I didn’t hate every single second of it.”

Amy could feel Steve’s gaze burning holes into the back of her neck, so she turned to face him dead-on. He looked a little puzzled, as if her words had struck him in a way he hadn’t anticipated. He took a seat on a nearby chair, leaning his elbow on his knee and propping his chin up in his hand.  
“It’s not like that for me. For us, for the Avengers. It’s different. The right thing… it’s always going to be the right thing. That’s what makes it right… isn’t it?”  
“Not for everybody.” Amy moved towards, crouching so that she was level with his face, peering at him for a long moment until she found the words she sought after,  
“If you try to stop a terrorist and a spray of gunfire shoots down an innocent bystander, was that the right choice? Maybe they live, maybe they die, but you caught the bad guy, so does that justify putting someone else’s life in the balance?” Steve was about to reply but Amy held up her hand to silence him, continuing on further,  
“Every time you or Bucky or Natasha have some epic battle in the middle of a public street in broad daylight, you put hundreds of innocent lives at risk. Is that the right choice?” She waited to see if he’d reply but instead he appeared thoughtfully silent.  
“At the end of the day, we can only do what’s right for us, in the heat of the moment. You just gotta hope that when it’s all said and done, it’s the right choice for everyone else too.”  
Steve leaned back in his seat, appearing deep in thought. If Amy had to wager a guess, she’d assume that perhaps for a moment there her words had turned his entire world upside down.  
Life was easy when the bad guys were always obvious and you didn’t have to think about consequences. How many lives were lost every time some monster tossed a bus down the street or crashed a car into a building mid-fight? Did any of them ever stop to think about the reality of the situation? For the first time in a long time, Amy was glad she wasn’t like them. She didn’t think she’d be able to sleep at night.

Carefully, Steve took a breath and sighed, choosing his words with precision.  
“In the end, it’s not about right and wrong. The lives we save are what’s important.”  
“But what about the lives you don’t?” Amy’s gaze met Steve’s then, holding it without blinking and wondering if the faint pounding she heard was his heart or hers.  
In that moment Alex returned, knocking on the glass door and startling the both of them. Steve and Amy both jumped up, looking a frantic mixture of awkward and embarrassed, as if they’d been caught doing something forbidden.  
“You two joining us for dinner or should I come back later?” She teased, sliding the glass door open wider to allow room for the both of them to step through at once.  
“If we come back later, there won’t be any dinner left.” Steve jabbed Bucky in the ribs as he passed him by, headed straight for the dining room.  
“Everything okay?” Alex stopped Amy, resting a hand on her shoulder and searching her face with concern.  
“Yeah, everything’s fine.” Amy promised, wondering how much of her words bore any truth to them.


	7. Chapter 7

“So, Ames, how’s work going? I hope Tony is treating you well.” Alex inquired between spoonful’s of soup.  
“If your definition of ‘well’ includes being called three different names and none of them are yours, then yeah, he’s treating me great.” Amy smirked, wondering just how many secretaries Tony went through in a week to have so thoroughly messed up his memory.

“Give him some time; he’s got a lot going on right now.” Alex looked apologetic, leading Amy to wonder if this was a reoccurring issue for them.  
“Don’t we all?” Amy agreed, pushing a piece of broccoli across her plate without any intent to eat it. She hadn’t really felt much of an appetite since the meal had begun. Her discussion with Steve had left too much on her mind and too little room in her stomach beneath the weight of all her nerves.

“Have you reconsidered my offer yet?” Alex didn’t meet Amy’s gaze as she poised her next question, knowing that the response she got may not be the one she wanted most.  
“About moving into the Tower? Not happening.” Amy’s tone was sharp, almost biting. It was clear that she wasn’t interested in having an open discussion at that moment in time and certainly not during dinner with friends.  
“It’s because she doesn’t want to have to fight you for time with me.” Bucky joked, breaking the tension in the air between them with ease.  
“Oh yeah, you got me, I’m just desperate for every second I can get with you, Barnes.” Amy rolled her eyes, chuckling into her drink.  
“What can I say? I’m a wanted man. Everywhere I go; people are throwing themselves at me. Isn’t that right, Doll?” Bucky looked to Alex for confirmation, who readily agreed with a brief kiss shared between them.

“Yeah, I think you’re confusing assassination attempts for displays of affection. I’m telling you, Barnes, they’re not the same thing. We’ve had this conversation.” Amy snarked, managing to sneak a glance at Steve from the corner of her gaze. He was smiling, but seemed a little on the quiet side. She wondered if perhaps their conversation was lingering on his mind as much as it had on hers.

The remainder of dinner became a lively affair with the group constantly swapping stories and making jokes, with Bucky and Steve taking the lead and Amy and Alex interjecting occasionally. Eventually the group settled down to watch a few movies, keeping each other company well into the late evening.  
By the time Amy finally managed to call it a night, the streets outside the windows were pitch black and most of society had already gone to bed hours ago.

“Come on Ames, won’t you stay the night? It’s not safe for you to be outside alone. I’d feel bad if something happened.” Alex pleaded as Amy tugged on her cardigan and prepared for departure.  
“I’m sorry, what fantasy world do you live in again? Cause over here in reality, we don’t hang around waiting for superhero’s to save the day from threats that haven’t actually happened yet.”  
“But what if you get hurt on the way home?”  
“Then I get hurt! Life happens, Alex. I can’t just hole up in your apartment every time I want to have a late night out.” Amy gave her friend a reassuring hug and started towards the door, where Bucky and Steve both idled beside.  
“Steve, you’ll walk her to her car, won’t you?” Alex cast a worried glance towards Steve who in turn pressed a hand to his heart, “On my honor. She’s in good hands.”  
“It was good to have you over. We should do this again.” Bucky addressed both of them, though the offer was obviously more heavily emphasized towards Amy, as they’d likely seen plenty of Steve in the past few months.  
“We should.” Amy agreed, “And you know where I live, so it won’t be hard to track me down.”  
“Oh, I’d track you down even if I didn’t have your address, darlin’.” Bucky flashed Amy a knowing smile to which she rolled her eyes in response.  
“Goodnight guys, thanks for having me.” Amy half-waved as she turned away from the door, eager to get home and unwind already.  
Steve finished his goodbyes and broke into a light jog in order to catch up to the younger girl who was already waiting for the elevator.

“If you want, I could give you a ride home.” Steve offered as they both watched the faint glow above the elevator move from one number to the next.  
“I have a car, Steve.” She laughed, wondering if overprotectiveness was contagious.  
“Well, we could have Bucky drop it off tomorrow, bright and early, before you could miss it.”  
“That sounds needlessly complicated. I can drive home in my own car after dark without getting jumped. I promise.” The elevator arrived and they both stepped inside. The small space made her hyper-aware of Steve in proximity to her. There was no mistaking it this time; the pounding heart belonged to her.

Simultaneously they reached for the lobby button, their fingers colliding for a brief, terrifying moment, causing Amy to exhale sharply and pull away as if she’d been burnt. Without missing a beat, Steve jammed his index finger against the console and the familiar lurch signaled the beginning of their decent.  
“About our conversation earlier—“ Steve began but Amy interjected, raising a hand to silence him,  
“Oh, Steve, we don’t have to talk about tha—“  
“No, it’s okay. I just wanted to tell you that you gave me some things to think about. I appreciate it.” Steve looked tired, though whether it was from the days events or the memory of the heavy conversation, Amy couldn’t tell.  
“Steve, please don’t misunderstand me. I’m not trying to make you feel like a bad guy. That wasn’t my intent. I—I’m not trying to make you feel any sort of way.”  
“Bit late for that, I’d say.” Steve flashed an unexpected, strained sort-of-smile as a bell chimed and the elevator doors slid open.  
“Huh?” Amy furrowed her brow as she followed him out into the lobby, unsure what to make of his response. Had she upset him so easily? Perhaps it was for the best, maybe that meant he’d keep his distance from her.  
The walk to her car was brisk and the night air was cool against her skin. Amy was glad she’d brought her cardigan, as she was certain she’d have frozen without it.  
“You’re sure I can’t drive you home?” Steve asked one more time as Amy dug out her keys.  
“Positive. Have a good night, Rogers.”  
“You too, Owens.” Steve took a step back, watching with a dutiful gaze as the azure-haired girl climbed into her car and drove off into the night.  
 

* * *

The following morning found Amy back at the Avengers Tower beneath an overcast sky. Rain lingered on the horizon in wait, thick, dark clouds threatening to spill forth at any moment. It wasn’t the best of starts to an early Monday morning but Amy had certainly lived through worse.

Despite the somber weather, Tony Stark arrived at the Tower in cheerful spirits, stepping into the Lobby no more than five minutes after Amelia had arrived.  
“Good morning, sunshine! If it isn’t my favourite….An-ge-lica!” He sounded out the name as if testing it for accuracy.  
“Actually, it’s Amy, Sir.” She corrected him for what had to be the tenth time that week.  
“Amy! Yes! I meant Amy. Love the hair by the way.” He grinned, hand-waving the mistake away without a second thought.  
“Of course you did, Mister Stark. And thank you.” Amelia agreed with a smirk, hoping he wouldn’t notice her playful eye-roll in his direction.

“Listen, sweetheart. I’ve got a meeting at 10 with some hotshot inventor, representing D’Amore-Corp or some such company, thinks he can produce the next big Android device—“  
“As in the phone?” Amy inquired, nodding in assumed-agreement.  
“No, the robot.” He replied without missing a beat, his expression completely serious.  
“Oh.” Amy hoped the look of shock wasn’t too apparent on her features, but had a feeling it might be. If it was, Tony certainly made no motion to address it.

“Anyway, Ashley-dear, when he gets here, send him up to the fourth floor, I’ll take his meeting in my workshop instead of the usual location.”  
“Sure thing, I can do that. Oh, and my name’s--”  
“Oh, and thanks again for working Saturday, I appreciate you coming in the extra hours. Sorry it turned out to be a ghost town. I had a meeting but it got canceled unexpectedly.” He interjected before she could correct him, causing her to sigh and dismiss it for the time being.  
“No worries. Not like I had any plans.” Amy smiled, hoping she didn’t look as stiff as she felt. The memory of that strange man flickered through her mind for a split-second before she attempted to push it away to no avail. There was no way he’d show up again. He was just some crazy loser who wanted to get close to the fabled Tower. They probably got the occasional fan-boy lingering on the property all the time. It was nothing to worry about.

“Well, if you need me, you know how to reach me. ‘Til later, Andrea, darling!” Shouting over his shoulder, Tony waved and started towards the elevator.  
“Still Amy, Sir!” Amelia called after him, shaking her head in amusement. She was starting to suspect he was doing it on purpose.  
“I knew that!” he called back as the elevator door shut between them.

Settling down behind her desk, Amy set to work for the day, juggling phone calls and penciling in meetings. Despite the storm clouds, a steady stream of visitors made their way in and out of the Tower that day, including the prior mention D’Amore Corp representative. By mid-afternoon, Amy had begun to idly wonder just how in the world Tony’s prior secretary had managed to juggle so much information.

Amy was beginning to feel woefully unprepared for her own position. This was, after all, something that most people went to college and studied for, or so she could assume. At the very least, they probably had taken a few classes and had a certificate or two backing them up. What did she have but a high school degree and a history of bad life choices?

Amy wondered what honest working person was out of a job because Alex called in a favor. The thought didn’t particularly sit well with her. What if someone had gotten fired on her account? Would Tony have done that for Alex? Would Alex have allowed it?

“Working hard or hardly working?” A familiar voice drew Amy out of her thoughts and she realized she’d been staring blankly at a post-it note for the better half of a minute.  
“Sorry. How can I help yo—Oh.” She murmured and glanced up to find Steve hovering in front of her desk, looking a mixture of concerned and amused.  
“Hello again. How’s the day been?” Steve asked, a thousand times brighter than she felt, for sure.  
“It’s been… busy.” That was putting it mildly.  
“You look tired. Something on your mind or is it just the day wearing on you?”  
For a moment, Amy considered lying, but at the last second she changed her mind,  
“Steve, do you know what happened to the person who worked here before me? Did they… get fired when I… got hired?” She chose her words carefully, wincing even as she spoke.  
“No, Ma’am. Truth is, there wasn’t a position before you arrived. Tony handled most of this stuff on his own, or left it to Pepper. He needed someone to defer it to that could be trusted, you needed a job and Alex recommended it. She vouched for you. Seemed like a win-win all around, if you ask me.”

That was a bit of a relief. At least no one had been fired for her, but then, there was no denying that someone else could do the job better. She wondered if Alex vouching for her had really pulled so much weight. Maybe any Joe-schmoe off the street would have sufficed, so far as Tony was concerned.  
“Amy?” Steve called her name and Amelia realized she’d been wandering again.  
“Sorry. Damn. I really do need to focus on my work, I keep getting distracted.” Amy admitted, sheepishly.  
“Is that a nice way of telling me I need to stop bothering you?” Steve joked but shifted his weight, preparing to leave and allow Amy to return to her work. As he turned though, he caught glance of the small bobble-head that Tony had left as a gift for Amy the other day.  
“Is that—“  
_“Yes_.” Amy confirmed with embarrassment, knowing what he was going to ask the moment that he’d caught sight of it.

A grin spread across his face like wildfire as he picked up the figurine and turned it over in his hands,  
“Would you believe me if I said I used to own things like this?” Their gaze met for a moment and Amy knew her cheeks must have turned some shade of red with how hot her skin felt then.  
“Did you? Well, I did too. I _still do_ , actually. Though most of them are packed away in boxes now.” Amy admitted, hoping that she didn’t sound as dorky as she felt.  
“I’d love to see them sometime.” Steve promised, as he placed the figurine back down on her desk where he’d found it.  
“Maybe.” Amy offered a noncommittal shrug and tried to quiet her pounding heart.  
“I’ll see you later, Amy.”  
“Take care.”

* * *

As the hours dragged on, the number of visitors trickled off to a steady lull. By the time her shift was up, Amy had already escorted the last of Tony’s visitors out for the evening and the first floor of the building was silent.  
Gathering up her belongings, Amy headed to the front lobby to lock up for the night. As she turned the key in the latch and set the alarm, she was grateful that the strange man from before didn’t make a secondary appearance. Not wanting to be too cautious, she double-checked the back seats and trunk of her car before settling in, to make sure she didn’t run into any unwelcome surprises.

Her relief was short lived, however.  
While unlocking her car, she noticed a figure across the street, leaning casually against a black sedan, as if waiting for someone. She recognized him instantly as the trench-coat man from the other day. Thin metal-framed sunglasses obscured his gaze, but she knew that he was looking right at her as an eerie smile crept across his features, causing a shiver to force its way down her spine.

Amy hastily tugged her door open and climbed into her car, jamming her finger down on the auto-lock and clicking her seatbelt into place before peeling away from the building at what could be deemed a very-possibly-law-breaking speed.

As she drove, she wondered if telling Alex would be for the best. This was the second time that trench-coat dude had lingered around the Tower, and the first time hadn’t particularly been pleasant to begin with.  
But then… she didn’t want to go running to Alex every time a problem arose. She needed to prove to her friend that she could take care of herself. Alex had already gone above and beyond by getting her the job with Tony and by saving her when Step-douche decided to show up. Amy just didn’t feel right constantly needing help from superhero’s. Normal people didn’t get that kind of advantage, so why should she?

With an exasperated sigh, she pulled into the lot of Last Drop, the coffee shop that she and Alex had visited the other day. She didn’t want to risk driving straight home, in case trench-coat had decided to tail her after leaving the Tower.  
Ducking into the shop at a brisk pace, Amy discovered that Last Drop was nearly empty for a little ways after five pm. A few patrons still mingling about would probably be enough to keep trench-coat dude from making a scene if he had in fact followed her, so Amy was grateful to find that it wasn’t entirely deserted just yet.  
After ordering a tall mocha, Amy took a seat beside the windows overlooking the street, to keep an eye out for trench-coat. The windows were spotted with large, wet droplets from the early-day rain, but still left a view that was clear enough to make sense out of.

Digging her phone out of her pocket, Amy punched in Alex’s number and paused. Should she get her involved? Was it worth it? What could she say other than ' _A creepy dude said creepy things and didn’t follow through on them and then he showed up a second day and did approximately nothing to me. Go get him, tiger!_ ’? Was that the kind of coward she was turning into? Was that what ‘normal’ life was doing to her? Making her run to her superhero pals any time a creep looked at her the wrong way?  
No. She wasn’t weak. She wasn’t helpless.  
Without bothering to call, Amy shoved the phone back into her pocket.  
She didn’t need anybody’s help. She could take care of herself. Like always.

**Author's Note:**

> The timeline of Winter Sister takes place a little less than a year after the events of Winter Savior and a few months after the events of Winter Hearts .  
> 


End file.
